


bare my skin (count my sins)

by shepherd



Series: breaking thrones, breaking backs [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Sexual Content, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mavin secret agent AU. As a secret agent working underneath Geoff Ramsey, Michael Jones has responsibilities. Unfortunately, he’s a little distracted by a sharp dressed and incredibly handsome stranger across the room. part of a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bare my skin (count my sins)

Michael wasn’t one for getting distracted on a job. Especially one as important as this. He took this shit seriously because he had to. It could easily go wrong, in a matter of seconds, and he could end up face down and bleeding out in some dank gutter somewhere in the darkness of the city if he wasn’t alert and careful. He had heard about dozens of fellow agents who had been distracted by a pretty face while on the job- and that gorgeous face either lost them the job, lost them their lives, or in some cases was the one who planted a knife in their guts. They were nice to look at, sure, but they weren’t worth the trouble. And Michael was above swooning over an attractive person.

But good God, was that a pretty fucking face.

Michael shook his head as if to chase away the thoughts plaguing him, and took another, deeper drink and struggled to ignore what was happening across the room.

The stranger that held his attention stood in the direct centre of the throng of excitable party guests, slow dancing with a woman Michael didn’t recognise. He had one hand on the back of her neck, the other lightly touching her hips. The woman, a frankly gorgeous blonde, wore a somewhat garish blood red cocktail dress, with the back completely missing. It bore the pale expanse of her back, showing off her slim frame and they were by far the best looking couple attending the party. The hostess- Jane, a beautiful woman in her own right- did not look at all pleased.

They swayed together, their movements seemingly casual but far too calculated and professional to be truly relaxed. Every step the other took, the other mirrored, their movements utterly flawless. The painfully handsome man leant forward with a grin, his nose brushing against the woman’s gold tresses and muttered something into her ear, something low and no doubt seductive. She listened, enraptured- and then threw back her head and laughed, the sound clear and gentle. Michael wondered only half sarcastically if he had accidently stumbled onto the film set for a 007 film.

That would have made things difficult.

He tore his gaze away and downed the rest of his drink in one go, thudding it down onto the counter. The bartender- the hostess had hired an actual, honest-to-God bartender, Christ- took his glass silently, eying him somewhat suspiciously. Michael ignored him, and debated having another- but despite the fact he wanted one he knew it wasn’t a smart idea to get drunk when shit needed to get done. He pushed himself away from it, and wandered out back into the party, engulfing himself into the masses of people. He made sure to avoid the couple, pushing his way through and avoiding the centre at all costs. Instead, he headed to the fences.

The party was held on the rooftop of the apartment building of Jane’s brother. Judging by the signs that screamed ‘NO ENTRY’, red words vivid against the white sign, they were either breaking the rules or she had pulled a few strings to get what she wanted. Considering the fact she was the daughter of a corrupt lawyer who worked closely with Michael’s boss, it was probably the latter. She had hired the bartender who doubled as a drinks mixer, servers who carried trays of snacks and drinks around and even a live band. It all felt surreal, dreamlike and utterly fictional like he was living in The Great Gatsby. Michael peered out over the glass barriers that surrounded the rooftop, taking in the sight of the city. New York was a beautiful place in the darkness. The sun had completely set hours ago, and the only lights that remained were artificial. Street lights glared down on the roads, singular spotlights, and harsh white and gold lights ebbed from the tall buildings surrounding them. Car headlights glided on by underneath Michael’s feet, far down below. From the rooftop, the people walking below were as small and minor as flecks of paint on a artists canvas.

The city that never sleeps, indeed.

He gazed down at it, trying to distract himself from one beauty with another. He wished Jane would hurry up. He was waiting on her- and she was taking her sweet time about things. He turned his head, and he could see her bustling around, chatting with her guests, embracing old friends. He supposed he understood that she had to keep up appearances but it was cold tonight. The winds of winter howled over the high rise buildings, pushing auburn curls into his eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to do the job and get home. He didn’t understand how the women attending could wear dresses with no sleeves in the November night.

He huffed out a sigh, leaning on the glass barrier, and wished he was home. His suit was making him itch, scratching unbearably at his skin, and he wanted to tear it off and set fire to the damn thing. Geoff damn well knew he wasn’t one for formal occasions like these. He was a man of practicality, one who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, knew his way around a gun, and most importantly, one who wasn’t afraid to kill. He should have been out doing the messy jobs- the assassinations and the like. It wasn’t that he enjoyed them, particularly- but they were a lot better than this.

Dropping him headfirst into a pool full of well dressed, snobby rich people who pretended to care about each other and probably hadn’t even done a minute of hard and honest work in their lives was the worst thing Geoff could have done to him, and it was certainly the most torturous hell Michael could imagine.

He groaned to himself, planting his face in both of his hands.

Come on, Jane.

He spent minutes staring out over the city, listening to the ambient sounds of the party behind him. He heard a woman squeal with laughter, another talk business into her mobile, and glasses chink together in a private toast between a few people. A group of men guffawed at some bawdy jest as the band kept playing some stupid love song that Michael didn’t recognise, and above them all Jane was still gossiping away to the people who pretended to be her friends.

It was all fake, and Michael wanted to be sick.

He waited for his time to act, and he found his thoughts returning to the stranger, slowly, but surely. The man had wormed his way inside, seeping into his thoughts, breathing down his neck, resting in his bones. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Michael turned his head to take in the sight of that stranger one more time- and both he and the woman were gone. The dance floor was almost empty, a few odd couples still spinning and sharing kisses, but most were sitting down. The man and the woman alike were nowhere to be seen.

He was pleased by that- no more distraction, his rational mind said- but he felt the disappointment far more intensely.

Then, a familiar but rather grating sound rang out above the din. It was a high noise, a chiming. A piece of metal cutlery being gingerly tapped against a crystal wine glass. Usually, this noise would have irritated him to no end- but now hope welled up inside him, and Michael turned, leaning his back against the barrier. He tried to hide his excitement, but he didn’t think he was successful. He saw Jane standing in the centre as the music faded and the dancers melted away, their movements slow and fluid. Then, she stood alone.

Jane’s lips were painted the colour of frozen raspberries, and her dress was as dark and as heavy as the deepest shadow. She smiled as every eye fell on her and all conversations died a sudden, brutal death, and her hands stilled, and the chiming sound disappeared. She lowered her hands, and spun in her spot, looking at everyone at once. A majority of people had sat at the tables that were dotted around the rooftop, their faces lit by candles or with some, the screens of the mobile phones. Others, like Michael, stood nearer the edges. But he was the only one who stood alone.

“Good evening!” She began, her voice loud and clear across the rooftop. From further back, Michael knew her voice would be carried away and swallowed by the wind. “Firstly, I’d like to thank you all for coming. I know so many of you are busy, so I’m very grateful that so many of you made time so you could attend.”

Bullshit, Michael thought, and he tuned her voice out, letting it turn into an incomprehensible buzz in his ears. He was good at pretending people weren’t talking. He had a lot of practise. Michael pushed himself off of the glass barrier and let his gaze ease across the room, picking out each individual person. They all stared at Jane, rapt as she spoke what was probably absolute nonsense. He was looking for someone special, someone who stood out of the crowd.

There was still no sight of the man he had been so enamoured with, nor his lady. It seemed like they had left. Michael frowned. Already? There was no sign of her bold red dress among the crowd or her gold hair, and it was no use trying to find the man. Too many people had similar dark hair and wore suits.

Then, Michael saw the briefcase. It was an old, battered thing, the leather falling apart as if it had been picked away by a nail. It looked very innocent- rather out of place at a celebration such as this, but no one would suspect anything. They would assume a guest had to come from work, or had taken the opportunity to discuss business with another. It lay at the feet of a tall man dressed sharply, in an elegant and crisp looking suit. He looked bored out of his skull, and Michael extended his deepest telepathic sympathies towards him.

They all listened to her drone on and on about friendship and opportunity, bullshit about the passing of time and other stuff Michael couldn’t care less about, for what seemed like a thousand years. But eventually, thankfully she fell silent, and her long tirade ended.

There was a smattering of polite applause, light and quiet. Michael grudgingly look part, as did the suited man across the roof. Jane bowed her head and gave a tiny curtsy- and moved back into the crowds. The music continued, and the chatter commenced, like nothing had ever happened.

The suited man waited for a few moments, waiting for people to recover and be distracted. He never looked over at Michael, despite the fact he was well aware of his presence. He played with his cuffs for a few seconds, then neatened his collar- and then stood, neatly tucking the chair underneath the table, and casually walked away. Michael watched him leave out of the corner of his eye, never making eye contact or speaking a word to anyone, nimbly dodging out of the way of other party goers. His briefcase still lay at the table, abandoned.

Then, as relaxed as possible, he made his way across the room and took the man’s seat before anyone else could get there. Finally, he thought.

He waited a few minutes, pretending to rest his legs, gazing at whatever was closest. The anticipating burned within him. He had been left waiting for so long, and now it was almost over. He let the minutes trickle by, slowly but surely.

Then, he swept down and took ahold of it as if it belonged to him, his hands curling around the handle. He got up, pushing the chair back, and didn’t bother to tuck it in before crossing the rooftop, scanning the crowd for Jane. He saw her tucked into one of the corners, pressed close to her fiance, a short but surprisingly intimidating man. No one looked at him as he passed by, making things easier.

Jane noticed him before he reached her, and she straightened up and welcomed him with a smile. “Michael!” She held her arms open wide and stepped forward, enveloping him in what was possibly the most awkward hug he had ever experienced. She smelled strongly of vanilla and shampoo. “I didn’t know you were here.” Her fiance eyed him, somewhat suspiciously as Jane beamed at him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. We really must catch up.”

Michael nodded along, keeping a friendly smile on his face as best as he could. He was impressed how good of an actress she was- her lines didn’t sound rehearsed at all. He shrugged at her when she finished. “Definitely.” He said, even though they knew fully well they would never catch up. “But I have to get going, I just wanted to tell you what a great party this was- better than Mogar’s. Thanks for having me.”

He didn’t put any emphasis on their codeword, none at all, but Jane’s eyes gleamed with recognition while her partner’s flashed with bewilderment. Who the hell is Mogar, he was no doubt thinking, but he went ignored. “No problem, it was a pleasure.” Jane brushed a hand along his shoulder, her smile only widening. “I’ll be seeing you soon then?”

“Of course.” Michael lied easily, and turned to leave.

He only made it nine long strides away, a little over halfway across the rooftop.

He felt a hand tap on his shoulder- not shyly and unsurely like most, but polite. He sucked in a breath, his stomach suddenly tightening with nerves. It was jarring moodshift- he was excited, happy, looking forward to dropping off the case and getting home, but now he was tense and on edge. And potentially in danger. He clutched the handle of the briefcase, hard, and prayed it wasn’t someone who had seen him take it. Steeling himself, steadying his fight or flight response and he turned, already smoothing over his expression with an innocent mask- only for it to be immediately dropped and replaced with genuine alarm when he saw the handsome stranger from before.

The son of a bitch seemed to smoulder in front of him, far more attractive closer up. It was almost supernatural. His eyes were vibrant, almost neon and as green as summer grass. They gleamed teasingly, as if with some private jest he didn’t feel like sharing. As soon as Michael turned to face him, the man’s expression brightened, and a lazy grin curled on his full lips. “Good evening.” He greeted, his voice dropped low, and Michael immediately picked up on the British accent.

He was in a fucking 007 film after all. He felt betrayed.

Michael stood stammering for a long minute, unsure whether or not he was still in danger. His grip on the briefcase didn‘t relax. “Hi.” He eventually managed, and cursed himself for being so lame. But the stranger’s smile simply widened.

“Going so soon?” He tilted his head to one side, and his lips formed a minor pout. One of his fingers tapped the surface of his expensive looking watch on his wrist. “It’s only half past nine. And the party’s just getting started.”

I bet it was, he thought. If he just turned his head a fraction to the side, he could see that things were steadily getting increasingly illegal. Two giggling girls standing nearby with flushed faces were downing pills and washing them down with delicate glasses of deep red wine. A sharp dressed man in the corner seemed to be soliciting sex from someone who looked barely out of school. In the opposite corner from there, money changed hands between two people at a rapid pace, and a plastic bag of something was pressed into a woman’s hand. Alarm bells started ringing insistently in Michael’s head, but he was on a job, he hadn’t the time for them- and the shrill noises were suddenly soothed when the man placed his hand on his shoulder again, this time holding it there.

Michael stiffened, the touch very much unwelcome- and sensing this, the man immediately pulled away, releasing him. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head slowly, almost shyly. His chin was tucked into his sternum. “That was presumptuous of me.” He kept his head down, but looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes that emitted a warmth, and could have easily melted the heart of an ice queen. “Forgive me?”

So maybe Michael in fact wasn’t above swooning over an attractive person. He couldn’t help but smile, temporarily forgetting about his duty. “It’s alright. Just spooked me a little, is all.” The handsome man grinned, then, a little boisterous and worryingly mischievous.

“You don’t look like the kind of man who would be spooked.” The man commented, his smile just a little too wide. “You look like you do the spooking.” Unsure of what to say, Michael hummed uncommittedly, and nodded his head once. He watched as the man’s eyes flicked down to his hands, and a light frown appeared. “You’re not drinking.” He noted. He himself held a small glass of wine in his hands, mostly untouched. The liquid was a deep red hue, almost black.

Michael shrugged dismissively, again unsure of what to say. He wasn’t often uncertain of himself. He didn’t like it, and he especially didn’t like the effect this stranger had on him. The briefcase was still heavy in his hand. “I don’t drink much.” He lied. “Bad things happen when I drink.”

The man smiled, and it was nothing short of predatory. It was as if he was imagining all the things Michael would do under the influence. His teeth were pearly white, admittedly a little crooked, but Michael was distracted by thoughts of those teeth scraping down his throat, leaving bruises on his pale skin. He watched the man shift where he stood, and noted his flawless posture. “I’m Gavin.” He introduced himself, sticking out a hand.

He hesitated- but then accepted it. They shook hands, and Michael immediately noted how Gavin’s grip was firm, confident. It closed around Michael’s hand, almost like a trap. He was trained to read the people he met, figure out their lies and sometimes the complexities of their nature- he would have to take in and analyse how they stood, how they smiled, how they reacted to things. Michael took this chance to look him up and down, somewhat appreciatively, and he had Gavin sussed within a minute.

Judging by his handshakes, he was cocksure, bold, probably worked in business. He had to shake hands often, and he needed to make an impression in that single second- so his grip was tight and firm, and his hands were never clammy. His job was definitely something difficult and very competitive, something that needed a quick mind and a silver tongue judging by his behaviour and charisma. It likely paid a lot of money, too- his suit was incredibly expensive looking. It was brand new, and the fabric hardly looked cheap. It was perfectly fit to his slim shoulders, in contrast to how Michael’s bunched at the shoulders and how the sleeves fell a little too far along his hands. He was tall, and he was young, somewhere around Michael’s age if not the same- and so he needed to be something special to be in such a competitive business so young.

He didn’t know what someone like him was doing at a party like this- perhaps he was friends with the hostess, or her brother. Maybe he worked for their father, and was blissfully unaware of just how corrupt he was and how deep the family roots were. Either way, he didn’t look like someone who would work in crime. Gavin was innocent.

All of this flashed through Michael’s mind in a matter of seconds, and he immediately adapted himself around this person who was, by all rights a stranger- but Michael now knew him much too well for that. He tightened his own grip in the handshake, squeezing tightly, and he knew Gavin noticed. They let go of each other, and Michael repressed the urge to shake and rub feeling back into his fingers.

“Michael.” He returned, smiling in greeting. He had nothing to fear from him, or anyone else on this rooftop- he didn’t need to give him a fake name.

“Michael.” Gavin echoed, slowly, and Michael withheld a shudder. His voice was a purr, and he could easily imagine that voice breathing his name into his ear, wavering, unsteady with soft gasps and moans. He managed to smile without making a single sound, and he was grateful. He didn’t think Gavin would be too eager to stick around if he knew about the kind of thoughts he was having.

Or maybe he would. Michael didn’t know.

His eye was caught by a sudden flash of red from within the crowd, and he turned his head. He snickered.“I think someone’s missing you, Gavin.” Michael told him, and nodded his head towards the blonde from before, who hadn’t stopped staring at Gavin since their conversation began. The other man turned his head to glance in her direction- and she promptly flushed a brilliant, bold red and ducked her head. Her hair swung down, acting like a curtain between the two. Gavin laughed, the sound resonating from deep in his throat, and Michael ignored the surge of arousal in his belly. Jesus.

“She’s not as interesting as you are.” Gavin shrugged his slim shoulders, and took another sip of his drink. He locked eyes with him over the rim of the glass. “No one else in this party is quite like you, Michael.”

Michael barked out a laugh, as sharp and loud as a gunshot. Gavin chuckled in return, the sound rumbling. He turned away for a brief second, and intercepted a server as he stepped by them. He grabbed a glass to match his, and pressed it into Michael’s hand firmly. “Stay awhile.” Gavin’s voice was imploring, but his expression was demanding, and Gavin closed his hand around his wrist. Michael only had the illusion of choice. “I find this lot awfully dreary.”

A brief civil war waged between his mind and his heart- or more accurately, his body. His mind told him he was a fool, and staying at the party any longer would be frankly ironic. But his heart and his body both mooned at Gavin, taking in the shape of his waist, the notable curve of his ass, the slightly crooked but incredibly endearing smile.

Together, his heart and body smashed the competition.

“Okay.” He agreed, and Gavin seemed to light up. He grabbed his hand, and Michael had no time to either curse or rejoice his split second decision.

He pulled Michael over to an empty table, choosing one far away from the other guests. It wasn’t quiet, and they certainly weren’t invisible, but it had a degree of privacy Michael appreciated. Gavin pulled out Michael’s chair for him before taking a seat of his own, directly opposite him. The agent settled down his briefcase, keeping it trapped between his legs, and took a uncertain sip of his wine. It had an intense fruity taste that he didn’t anticipating, and it overwhelmed him. He coughed ungraciously a few times, a brilliant flush appearing on his cheeks, but Gavin only smiled and took a longer, deeper drink.

“So what’s someone like you doing here?” Gavin asked once he tapped the glass down on the table. Placing his elbows on the surface, he laced his long fingers together and leant on them, gazing at the agent.

Michael arched a brow, placing his glass next to his companion’s. “Someone like me?”

“Pretty, for starters.” Gavin smile was practically gilded. “Pretty people don’t go to parties all alone. And I want to know why someone with a face like yours hasn’t spoken to anyone all evening.”

Ignoring the compliment, Michael narrowed his eyes defensively. A sinking feeling dropped low in the pit of his stomach. “You’ve been watching me the whole time?”

He refused to look sheepish. Instead, he offered him a roguish grin. “So what if I have? You were watching me.” He caught Michael’s expression- one of thinly veiled horror- and he backed off again. “Well, not all evening.” He rectified. “I left for a while. I only just came back, and I saw you leaving. I couldn’t let a chance like you pass me by.” The businessman’s laughter was rich, bubbling and yet mirthless and self depreciating. “I’m not very good at this, am I?”

He didn’t see me take the briefcase. Good. Michael allowed himself a quiet relieved breath, and he watched as Gavin agitatedly ran a hand through his already wild, dark hair, messing it even more. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth thoughtfully, gnawing at it- making himself look thoroughly debauched.

“You’re fine.” Michael corrected him, trying not to think of those teeth again. “Just a little creepy.”

Gavin snorted with laughter, and Michael joined him. They laughed at themselves together as the music played on, filling the air with soft sounds. There was a gap of silence between them, as Michael watched Gavin’s long fingers fiddle with the corner of the table cloth. Then, Michael spoke up. “You couldn’t let a chance like me go by?”

Gavin, who had been avoiding his eyes, looked up at him and gazed directly at him, thoughtfully, as if judging his potential reaction to some unknown action. He reached out and curled his fingers around the stem of his glass, lifting it to his mouth and taking a drink. Michael watched him adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and then he stared when he noticed the way the liquid glistened on his lips underneath the artificial lights. Gavin licked at them, agonizingly slowly, his very long and very pink tongue running across them.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here, Michael?” That bizarre pronunciation was back, something incredibly irritating but wholly satisfying, the harsh click of the ‘k’ sound and the low sound of the ‘o’ that made absolutely no sense to him. The man pursed those lips of his, his brows furrowing. “Why are you here?”

Put firmly on edge and spooked by the sudden seriousness on the man’s face, he tensed up and pushed his chair back a little, as subtly as he could manage. If he needed to get out of there- although he couldn’t think why he would need to, an angel face like that was no threat to Michael- he needed to do it fast. “I’m a friend of Jane’s who got invited.” That was only half a lie. “I was saying goodbye to her and about to leave when you grabbed me.”

Suspicion was written all over Gavin’s expression. “Why haven’t you spoken to anyone?”

Michael shrugged dismissively. “I haven’t seen her in a long time. I haven’t met anyone else here before. I wouldn’t just walk up and talk to strangers.”

Seemingly satisfied, the tension in Gavin’s face melted away. He lowered his head and made a sound of acceptance. Michael could hear the gears whirring and cogs grinding together in his head. He wouldn’t have been surprised if smoke poured out of his ears. “Okay.” He accepted Michael’s story, and he barely had time to breath a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing here, then?” He asked in turn. “Here for business, or pleasure?”

With the focus brought from Michael to Gavin, that puppy like enthusiasm was suddenly back for round two, and he leant over the table again, smirking. “What if I told you that I was a secret agent hunting someone down?”

“Then I’d call you a liar.” Michael shot back, and he couldn’t help but grin in return. Ignoring the weirdness of what just happened, he let the comfortable banter return happily. There’s no way in hell this guy’s being genuine. No way in hell. If only he knew I was the agent.

Gavin pouted, like a teenage girl, his eyelashes fluttering. “You don’t believe me?” His pout only increased when Michael laughed in his face, louder than he intended. They got a few sideways looks, but no one paid them any real attention. “I could be James Bond.”

“You’re British enough to be James Bond.” Michael agreed, nodding. He gradually took another sip of his wine, and the taste still knocked him off his feet. Once he recovered, he continued, feeling much less confident. “And handsome enough.”

Time seemed to slip away from him in that moment, as he waited for Gavin to respond. It was an edgy thing to say, even if he got the feeling that the man had been flirting with him. Gavin was harder to read than most- judging by his little outburst, he was highly emotional but shrewdly intelligent- so potentially highly manipulative. He eyed him carefully, watching every part of his expression shift.

I’ve got you. You can’t hide from me.

Gavin hummed a little and smiled, little crinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. Genuine joy and contentment danced within them- and then the man leant over the table, his crimson tie almost falling loose from it’s neat formation, and kissed him.

Okay, I haven’t got you.

He hadn’t expected that. It was soon, too soon Michael thought, much too soon. He had responsibilities, he should have been long gone. But still, his hand shot up to curl around Gavin’s cheek and pull him closer.

The feeling of Gavin’s harsh, multiple day old stubble under his hands was indescribable. It scratched at him insistently, a little painful, but he didn’t care. He found he lost the energy and the perception to care about several things- the fact people could be watching, irrelevant, the briefcase at his feet, irrelevant, the fact he shouldn’t really kiss a man he just met despite the fact he looked like an angel- irrelevant. Michael only wanted more, he wanted to take everything he possessed, to sap this man dry.

Before he knew what was happening, Gavin was suddenly there, kneeling at his feet with his head craned up, deepening their kiss. He hadn’t registered the sound of him getting up, or the end of their first kiss. But it was still all so irrelevant. Michael smoothed his hand down Gavin’s cheek, trailing his fingers down his bare throat. The businessman moaned lightly into his mouth, still working his lips against his. He could taste the wine on Gavin’s lips, and at risk of sounding increasingly cliche it tasted so much better than before.

But they needed to breathe eventually, and Gavin pulled back, his lips adorably kiss damp but his eyes dark with an severe lust. Michael panted, praying to God no one had seen them.

“I think I should go.” He said, helplessly. He felt ridiculous, like Cinderella escaping the prince at midnight, but he needed to go. Michael moved to make his escape, grabbing for the case- but the Gavin’s hand shot out and closed firmly around his wrist. His movements were like a snake’s- incredibly fast and twice as deadly. Michael had no time to react as Gavin pulled him in, close to his chest, into his warmth.

And then he didn’t want to react, not when Gavin leaned down and whispered softly into his ear “Why don’t we get out of here?”

Michael’s mouth dried out and his mind fizzled uselessly until it short circuited and burnt out. He stuttered for a few long moments, feeling like a fool and expecting Gavin to laugh in his face- but the man only smiled down at him, and Michael felt fingers brush lightly across his wrist, as if taking his pulse, tracing the lines of veins beneath his pale skin. It sent a shiver through him, and he prayed that Gavin didn’t notice- but judging by the soft, interested sound he made, he did. Nothing seemed to get past him. “I, uh…”

Gavin’s fingers traced tiny circles into his skin, little doodles that Michael simply couldn’t follow and create in his head. “I like you, Michael.” He told him, bluntly. “And I want to leave with you.”

Michael turned as red as the girl from before. “I want to leave with you.” He admitted in return, helpless, putty in Gavin’s hands. Gavin’s responding smile was wicked. He leaned in close, and Michael could feel his warm breath on his ear.

“You were watching me earlier.” He murmured the reminder, the edge of his large but oddly endearing nose brushing against his hair. “With the girl. You kept looking at me, and you thought I didn’t notice.” The man dared to nip at his ear, his teeth snapping at the shell, and Michael gasped. “Did you like what you saw?” Gavin asked, all wide eyed innocence despite the darkness he was whispering in his ear. “Do you like what you see?”

“Fuck.” Was the only vaguely intelligent response Michael could muster.

Gavin made a low moan in his ear, delightfully crass despite everything, and his mouth made his way down from his ear to along the line of his jaw, down his throat. He nipped at the skin, making Michael jump. “Fuck.” He concurred. His hand, which has hovered near his knee palmed the skin, slided up, dangerously far up his thigh. “I live in the apartment block along the road. Whatever you’ve got to do- it can wait until afterwards, right?”

Michael thought about it. He thought about all the excuses he could make- and how angry Geoff would be if he found out from Jane what had really happened. He wondered if Geoff would penalize him. Maybe stick him on the boring jobs, or make him baby sit the new recruits. He thought about how going home with Gavin would not be worth it.

Then he thought about the kisses, the whispers, the promises currently being muttered in his ear and the feeling of a thumb caressing tiny little circles painfully close to his cock, which steadily hardened in his pants.

“Yeah.” He agreed breathlessly. “It can wait. But what about this guy of yours, Mr Bond, the one you’re hunting down?”

Gavin smirked. “I’ll find him. Wherever he goes, I’ll find him.” He boasted- and then ducked down for a kiss.

 

x-x-x-x-x

 

The kiss that was pressed against Michael’s lips was searing, and he felt like he was going to melt into a puddle. And they hadn’t even gotten into Gavin’s apartment yet.

Michael had been pressed against the wall of the elevator, and his leg had been forcefully hiked up, hitched around Gavin’s waist. He squirmed as hands tugged his once tucked in shirt free of his pants and slipped underneath his shirt, sliding against his stomach. He batted at Gavin’s hands uselessly. “This is a public elevator.” He insisted against his lips, but he went ignored. Gavin took the opportunity of Michael’s open mouth to slip his tongue inside, and Michael shuddered. They broke away for a second to breathe afterwards, and he hissed, “If anyone comes in and sees us, I’ll have your head.”

They didn’t, and Gavin’s head remained firmly on his shoulders. Gavin practically hauled him out of the elevator as soon as the dinging noise sounded and the doors slid- more like stuttered- open. The apartment building was surprisingly dank, not quite what Michael expected. Several of the lights had been smashed or had died, leaving most of the hallways in darkness. The hallways weren’t filthy, exactly, but they were hardly clean. Michael didn’t expect someone as intelligent and sharply dressed as Gavin to live there.

But soon it was all pushed out of his mind- they came to what seemed to be Gavin’s door. He fumbled around his his pocket for his keys, eventually fishing them out and forcing them almost violently into the keyhole, and firmly twisting his wrist. The door clicked, and Gavin pushed it open- gesturing for Michael to go first.

He crossed the boundary between the hallway and the apartment, and he barely got a good glance down the hallway before the door slammed shut behind him, and he was up against the wall again. His arms were quickly full of his energetic bundle of a newfound lover, and another, sloppier kiss was pressed to his chin, his mouth, his jaw. Slim hips were pressed up against his, grinding slowly, their cocks evidently hard in their pants. Michael moaned lowly at the friction, spreading his legs further, letting him press closer.

“Like that?” Gavin purred, a pleased grin quirking on his lips. It was a little patronizing, but at the same time hot. “Like that, love?”

“Fuck you.” Michael graciously returned, rolling his hips up to match Gavin’s, his fingers clutching at his shoulders. They were still painfully clothed, and Michael wanted this mistake rectified as soon as was physically possible. But Gavin seemed perfectly happy with rutting against him until they came in their pants like teenagers. But the man undid the single button on Michael’s suit jacket, undoing it with a single twist and flick of his fingers, and Michael wouldn’t lie- he groaned at the thought of what those fingers could do to him.

Gavin stripped him down slowly but surely, his hips still slowly gyrating. Michael’s jacket was dropped uncaringly onto the floor, and his dress shirt and tie soon joined it, making a small mound on the floor. Michael shivered, the oddly cold air of the apartment caressing his bare flesh. Gavin slid both his hands up his skin, trying to provide warmth.

“Hello, pretty.” Gavin cooed at him, taking in the sight of his bare chest and smooth, flat stomach. His fingers ghosted an invisible path up, from the concave of his hips to his nipples, appreciating each perfect, luscious inch. He brushed his thumb over one, flicking the other hard, making Michael jump- and both quickly stood erect in the cold air. Gavin ducked down, drawing one into his mouth and lapping at it roughly with his tongue. Michael keened, long and loud, one hand moving from his shoulder to thread itself into Gavin’s hair. He thudded his head back against the wall, helpless under Gavin’s hands and frankly phenomenal mouth. He usually took a more dominant role in sex, never being one to lie back and take things as they came- but he supposed that this was good, too.

Gavin pulled away, and despite the fatal blow it gave to his dignity Michael reached out for him, making what could only be described as grabby hands. The business man grabbed one of those hands and pressed a dry kiss to it’s knuckles, smiling- but he released it quickly, and made short work of Michael’s belt. Within what seemed like no time at all, Michael’s pants were around his ankles, and he stepped out of them, feeling a little self conscious. But neither had any time for that- Gavin curled his fingers around the band of his boxers and yanked them down too, and both articles of clothing were tossed away, joining the others on the floor.

Michael stood stark naked and defenceless in front of someone fully clothed who was gazing down at him like he was a meal to be devoured. He became fully aware of his cock, swollen, hard and heavy, and another shiver ghosted up his spine. Gavin’s eyes were dark, filled to the brim with nothing but lust.

“Kick off your shoes.” He eventually demanded, taking a step back to Michael’s disappointment. “Go down the hall and take the first left- that’s my bedroom. I’ll be with you in a second.” He offered him a sly wink, clucking his tongue at him in an approving manner, and made his own way down the hallway, disappearing into another room past the bedroom.

Michael toed off his shoes quickly, kicking them carelessly across the hall. He removed his socks too, tossing them after his shoes. He looked up, watching for Gavin. He couldn’t see him, but he could hear him bustling around in what seemed to be the kitchen- he could hear glasses clicking together. Quickly, he ducked down and grabbed his mobile from his pocket. Padding down the hallway, he stepped into the bedroom and switched on the light.

He brought the mobile to life with the click of a button, and he tapped in his password. He searched through his contacts as quickly as he possibly could, and found what he needed- Ray. He selected it, praying that Gavin wouldn’t catch him, and texted a quick message- need you to pick up that item. apartment across street from party. sixth floor, room 124. quickly.

He placed the phone on the bedside cabinet, knowing Ray was waiting for him somewhere nearby in the warren of the city, and knowing he would get the message. He settled himself on the bed, nursing the anticipation and arousal that was steadily building in his gut. He recalled the feeling of Gavin’s hand on his thigh, and he groaned lightly.

To pass the time, eagerly awaiting Gavin’s reappearance, he glanced around the room. It was odd- it barely looked lived in. The books stuffed into the bookshelf, tightly packed, were practically in pristine condition, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if they were utterly untouched. On the desk, there was not a single thing out of place- pens were contained neatly in a little pot, while papers were stacked high. There was a thin layer of dust on the TV, suggesting that it had been left unused for a while. There were no personal effects around the room- no photographs of family or friends, no postcards, no nothing. Nothing to suggest that the person who slept there had any personality at all.

Michael frowned, turning his head around, taking in everything. Questions bubbled up in his head, about to overflow- but from that second onwards, he was suddenly and pleasantly distracted.

Gavin entered, with no flourish. His now bare feet padded across the thick carpet almost silently. He had taken off his jacket and waistcoat, which were nowhere to be seen, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, baring thin forearms. In one hand, he held the neck of an expensive, rather posh looking wine bottle. It appeared to have been already opened, but Michael could see only a small amount was missing. In the other, he carefully clutched two wine glasses- and tucked within one of them was a small tube of lubricant and a condom. He flashed Michael a grin, his eyes dragging up the length of his naked body, and he carefully placed all the objects to one side, beside the phone.

Then Gavin was on him again, immediately, worming his way between Michael’s parted legs and stealing yet another kiss. Michael welcomed him, and reached down, grabbing a handful of the other man’s backside. He savoured the groan it created, and smiled.

“You have a great ass.” Michael told him, very matter of factly, and Gavin snickered. He murmured a soft ‘cheers’ and then did something Michael had been dreaming about all night- he bared his teeth and dragged them down the pliant skin of Michael’s throat, scraping the skin and leaving faint pick marks. His victim shuddered. Gavin sighed against his neck, biting, nibbling and kissing, and he lay his tongue against Michael’s pulse point, tasting rather than feeling the beat of his heart. Everything was hot, too hot, almost boiling.

“Fuck, you’re a pretty little pet.” Gavin breathed. His hands fell down, his nails scratching lightly over Michael’s ribs, down his stomach before he cupped his hips. “Are you hard for me, Michael?”

The auburn haired man trembled underneath his, wishing his lover’s hands would fall down and pay more attention to his cock- and he hissed when blunt nails dug into his skin, thankfully not sharp enough to draw blood, but enough to leave marks. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Answer me,” Gavin growled. “Are you hard for me?”

“Yes.” Michael practically mewled- and then he groaned when a hand curled around his cock, a thumb running along the underside. Kisses were peppered all down his neck to his collarbone as his dick was stroked, and it was official. Michael had died and gone to heaven.

Then, his phone chirped on the side.

Gavin didn’t react, busying himself with his hand on Michael’s cock- and although he would have loved nothing more than lying back and enjoying what Gavin gave him, he knew it was too important. He opened his eyes, huffing out a sigh. “Wait,” Michael told him, and Gavin paused, looking up at him with wide eyes. His grip laxed a little, and Michael arched his back against the bed, letting himself move up further to snatch at his phone. If it gave Gavin a good view of his naked body, that was just an added bonus. “Just a second.” He told him, and Gavin’s face blanked.

“You’re kidding me.” He said, not a trace of emotion in his voice as Michael checked his texts. “You’re checking your messages when I’ve got your dick in my hand?” Slyly, the agent leaned up and kissed him, distracting him- and then pulled away, quickly reading the response. Trouble? It simply read. Michael tapped back a quick response- a simple no- and threw the phone back, listening to it clatter against the wood.

The agent beamed at him, spreading his legs and wriggling himself further into the mattress. He thrust his hips up in Gavin’s hold, as if to remind him his cock was still achingly hard. “Continue.” He told him, and Gavin’s blank expression cleared, and mischief glinted in his eyes.

“Telling your boyfriend you won’t be back tonight?” Gavin asked, his thumb lightly teasing at the tip of his cock, spreading the precome that was already leaking out around. Michael laughed, twitching his hips minutely.

“Something like that.” He said, and Gavin hummed.

“I best make you forget all about him, then.” With that, he pumped Michael’s cock once,twice, three times, a thoughtful expression on his face. He bit his lower lip. “There’s so many things I want to do to you. I want to make you beg for my cock. I want to eat you out, I want to suck you, I want to fuck you until you scream for it.” He sat back, his expression torn, stuck between so many possibilities. “So many things to do, so little time.”

Michael couldn’t help but swallow. He had found an undiscovered thrill in being pushed down and ravished, and all of those things sounded perfect to him. “Well,” He started, and he was impressed with how steady his voice managed to be. “We can do some of those things tonight, and keep some for tomorrow.”

Gavin lifted a brow. “I thought you had to go do a thing.” He said, and Michael shrugged. His back was sticky against the now rumpled sheets,and it felt hideously uncomfortable.

“That’s what the text was about. It’s going to be sorted.” He leaned up, nipping once at Gavin’s ear, and he grinned and the surge of lust he saw power through his eyes. “My friend’s going to come and pick up something I needed to deliver. So I can spend all night here.” He shifted his hips carefully, arching them just a little, so his hard cock brushed against Gavin’s still clothed one. He reached up, and brushed a hand through Gavin’s unruly hair. “So why don’t you fuck me before he gets here, then we can do all those other things.” He purred evocatively, his tone full of saccharine, sugary sweet. “Think you’re up to it?”

Gavin didn’t think twice. “Deal.” He said, and Michael expected a fierce kiss. He didn’t get one. Instead, the businessman leaned over and grabbed for one of the wine glass. He fished out the lube and the condom, balancing it on Michael’s stomach, and replaced the glass. “I’ll make you beg for it later. For now, I’m feeling merciful.”

“How good of you.” Michael spoke dryly, and Gavin shot him an unamused but playful look, screwing the cap off of the lube easily. He quickly coated the fingers of his left hand in a generous amount, more than he really needed. For a moment longer, he simply took in the sight of Michael’s body- pink nipples still erect, bites all over his neck, his hair a mess. It was almost picturesque. Satisfied with what was before him, he brought his hand down to the junction between Michael’s legs.

The lube was cold against his entrance, and Michael’s body seized up with tremors. Gavin finger circled around it teasingly, testing him, before pressing it inside. Michael’s breath immediately hitched and one of his free hands clawed into the bed sheets. He bit back a curse when Gavin steadily thrust his finger, in and out, setting a swift pace immediately. He quickly adapted, and Gavin added a second, this time carefully scissoring them apart. He twisted his wrist and flexed his fingers, and Michael bucked his hips down, wanting more than Gavin was currently offering.That second quickly turned into a third, and Michael mewled like a kitten, a dark flush settling high on his cheeks- and then the fingers brushed lightly against his prostate, and he choked out a moan. His grip in Gavin’s hair tightened to a painful degree, and he tugged harshly at it. “Gavin.” He growled, his teeth grit. “For God’s sake.” His belly had tightened and his breaths were heavy- if Gavin continued on like this, Michael wasn’t sure if he could control himself for much longer.

Gavin drew his fingers out- not before searching for the spot that made Michael jump and curse one last time- and wiped them clean on the sheets uncaringly. He pushed the lube away, and sat back. With some squirming movements, he managed to shed his pants and his boxers, and dropped them off the side of the bed. Then, he carefully but quickly tore open the condom wrapper. He rolled it on slowly, steadily, making sure it was on properly. Once done, he leant back down, planting his forearms on either side of Michael’s head, and he licked at his mouth until Michael allowed him another kiss. Gavin felt Michael’s smile, and he hummed with pleasure and contentment.

He reached down, grabbing for Michael’s legs and he molded them to the position he wanted them in- he bent them a little, but made sure Michael was comfortable, and wrapped one around his waist. “Ready?” He asked, and Michael nodded without missing a beat. The scent of sweat was strong in the room, and both their skins were slick and warm.

Gavin paused, giving Michael some time to reconsider- and when he didn’t, he pushed himself forward, pressing into him. He pushed in carefully, noting how tight he was- inexperience, he guessed, and he was right. Michael clenched up, his expression fixed and frozen, and Gavin hushed him when he let out a low groan. He pressed a kiss to his temple, tasting the bitter tang of sweat. His lover was boiling hot and the flush on his cheeks made him look incredibly fuckable- but Gavin forced himself to stay still and give Michael time to adapt.

But apparently, that was not what the agent wanted. He whined out a complaint and tightened his legs around Gavin, trying to pull him closer. He obeyed the silent demand and pressed in deeper, as far as he could. He gave Michael a few moments to adjust, but Michael lifted his foot and kicked him rather like a rider would kick a horse. In response, Gavin rolled his eyes and muttered ‘pushy’ before pulling out- then pushing all the way back in.

He built a quick rhythm, thrusting shallowly at first. He smoothed a hand over Michael’s head, running his hand through his wild curls. “Is that okay?” He panted, gauging his face for a reaction. He saw how Michael’s eyes were clouded with lust, and saw how he clamped down on his lower lip, drawing blood. Which each thrust, soft little moans and sighs spilled out of his mouth, with the occasional curse and groan of his lover’s name.

“It’s perfect.” Michael managed, his voice a simple whine.

Then, Gavin hit the right spot, the perfect spot, and Michael threw his head back, his pretty mouth opening wide in a silent scream. His grip on Gavin tightened to the point where he knew there would be fingertip shaped bruises for him to kiss and worship the next morning.

Colours danced before his eyes as Gavin steadily increased his pace, soundless fireworks detonating before him, and he scratched at Gavin’s back mercilessly. They both cried out, seeking each other’s mouths and swallowing their further noises. Michael pulled him close as if he wanted to absorb him, needing more, far more. The pressure in his belly was building, and it needed to be relieved as soon as possible. He reached down between their bellies, grasping his cock, and timed his strokes and tugs with Gavin’s thrust. He panted, his breath feeling as hot as dragon fire.

Gavin had completely lost his composure- he rested his head on Michael’s sternum and he was muttering soft words to himself, most of them words that made no sense to Michael. But some, he knew. “Fuck.” He groaned, his voice absolutely shattered. “Fuck me, you’re hot.” His hips kept on rocking into him, hitting Michael’s prostate every few thrusts, his rhythm growing lazily as he approached his end. Michael’s own body felt like it was going to be torn apart, heat rising in his belly and anticipation making him shiver.

Less than a minute later, Michael came, clawing down Gavin’s back like a wild beast and screaming in a frenzy, and his vision went pure white. His lover continued on for another few heartbeats, pushing Michael further along, the creaks of the bed and cries of his lover music to his ears- and then he too came, growling Michael’s name.

Exhaustion claimed the both of them quickly, and they lay there together for a long while, catching their breaths, appreciating the post-sex afterglow and aches in their bodies. Gavin hung his head still, but managed to sit up to avoid almost crushing Michael under the weight of his body. From this position, he could appreciate the purpling bite marks he had left on Michael’s skin, and the way the flush had spread from his cheeks to his ears and chest.

After a minute, he caressed Michael’s thigh and pressed a kiss low on his belly. He shifted off of the bed, removing the condom and knotting it expertly. He threw it across the room towards the rubbish bin- hissing a tiny ‘yes’ when it landed in first time- and stood, appreciating the way his thighs cramped. Michael still lay there, a little overwhelmed, and very much looking forward to what would come later.

By the time he was able to sit up, he found an almost overflowing glass of wine being almost shoved into his face. Gavin smiled down at him. “Drink something.” He told him. “Your throat’s probably very sore and dry.”

Michael pulled a face at him, and certainly didn’t admit he was right. He drunk deeply, several long gulps. This time, the powerful taste didn’t overwhelm him. “So that was good.” He said to fill the silence that fell, putting his glass to one side. Gavin, who had sat at the end of the bed, grinned at him.

“Good enough to beg for later?”

“Definitely.” Michael chuckled- and then, there was a knock at the door. His head shot up, as did Gavin’s. Ray. He made a move to swing himself off the bed, then froze when the air met his bare and sweat covered skin. He shot a glance at Gavin, who had already jumped up. “Gavin, my clothes.” He reminded him, thinking of everything that had been shed in the hallway. Gavin crossed the room to his dresser, and pulled it open, tugging out a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain black shirt. Michael went to follow, standing up quickly- but he stood too fast, and the post sex ache in his legs was introduced with a swimming head, and he fell back down. He felt a little woozy, but he dismissed it, chalking it up to his over eagerness.

“I’ve got it.” Gavin assured him. “But there’s pajama pants underneath one of the pillows- you’ll probably want to pull them on.” He disappeared back into the hallway without another word, leaving Michael alone. He delved under the pillows, and found a pair of blue pants. He pulled them on, appreciating the cover. Everything ached, in a good way. His legs felt like jelly and his body seemed to tingle still. He was looking forward to tonight.

He heard voices in the corridor, surprisingly difficult to hear for people so close by. He stood, this time much slower. His head hurt a little, but he supposed it would pass. He stretched his legs, finding them stiff.

“I’m Gavin. Good to meet you.” He could hear Gavin say from the hallway, his voice that suave purr again. His voice descended into a mumble, even as Michael approached the doorway. He needed to get the briefcase to Ray, then send him off- then, he could do what he wanted.

But the migraine pulsed in his temples, and it refused to pass. Michael hissed lowly through gritted teeth, rubbing at his forehead uselessly. His arm felt weighed down now, difficult to lift. He felt less assured that it was only temporarily dizziness, now.

“Michael?” He heard Ray’s voice call, and he could hear his confusion clearly in his tone. He glanced up, ready to defend himself against Ray’s teasing or perhaps his accusations, and he saw him there, standing in the doorway, frowning. Or maybe he wasn’t frowning. It was hard to tell- everything was beginning to blur, the room dancing around him, spinning too fast for him to recognise. He thought he could see someone standing behind Ray, possibly Gavin, but he couldn’t be sure. “Michael?” Ray asked again, and this time his tone was full of ice cold fear.

He had a split second in which to realise something was terribly wrong before his legs buckled underneath him, and he crashed to the floor, a dead weight.

At that exact same moment in time, a single gunshot barked from outside the room, horrifically close and disturbingly loud. His ears rang, the high pitched sound squealing in his ears insistently. Michael tried to cry out, but he wasn’t sure if he could. He felt like he did, and there was nothing stopping him from doing so- but he couldn’t hear a thing. He tried to move- but he felt sluggish and useless, like he was moving underwater. Everything felt surreal, uncomfortably dream like. He didn’t like it.

Michael had been shot plenty of times before, too many times, and he could attest to the fact you never got used to it. It still hit you as hard as the first time, and the pain was always unbearable. There was nothing else like it.

But now he felt no pain, and he felt no force strike him when the gunshot went off. He tried to shift from his position on the floor again, searching for the bullet’s point of entry, waiting for agony to spike up his chest, his arm, his leg. He felt nothing, but his limbs were heavy and felt thicker than usual. He tried to groan. His cheek felt wet and warm, and on his lips he could taste the bitter tang of iron. But nothing hurt- he hadn’t been shot.

Ray, Gavin, he thought suddenly, and he wanted to scream.

The ringing in his ears was still uncomfortably loud, stabbing into his skull and the room is still swirling around him like he was sat on a carousel. He felt stuck to the floor, like hands held him down or boulders sat on his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely think. All the while, he wondered just what the hell was going on, and if anyone was dead.

There was a movement beside him, suddenly, and he lolled his head to one side. His head felt like it was crammed full of concrete, and he felt like insects were crawling over his skin. He reached out for the movement, his hands heavy, and he managed to grip hold of what felt like an ankle. But it pulled away, kicking him off, and his hand flopped back down to the ground.

He lay in confusion and fear for what seemed like forever, waiting for the ringing to subside and his fate to be revealed. Gradually, it did so. First of all he could hear footsteps around the room and the distant mumble of voices. It cleared, slowly but surely, and he could hear someone who sounded like Ray shouting mindlessly. It was like having your head forced underwater- you could hear everything, but nothing at the same time.

Then, he surfaced, and the sound all came rushing back to him.

“Michael!” Ray was indeed screaming- for him. He sounded petrified, and his breaths were ragged and laboured. “Michael!”

“Oh my god, did you actually fuck him?” A woman’s voice rang out, clear as a bell over Ray’s, sounding incredibly surprised at this revelation. She didn’t sound at all bothered by the shooting or Michael’s predicament, and she ignored Ray completely. Her voice was distinctly unfamiliar.

“Of course I did.” Someone who sounded much like Gavin, accent and all replied. “He was hot, just look at him. Did you not hear him scream from next door?”

“You fucking bastards, what have you done to him?!” Ray roared, and there was a heavy thud and a loud screeching, like two metal objects being ground together. The woman laughed, genuinely amused by Ray’s pain. There was a sudden thumping noise, and a grunt of pain. “Fucking bitch. Assholes.” He snarled, but she kept snickering.

“He just shot you.” She told him, her voice a low purr. During all of this, Michael had a fascinating and incredibly unfocused view of what appeared to be the bedroom ceiling. It was difficult to ascertain exactly what was happening, almost impossible to put all off the pieces together to form the puzzle. “It’s generally not a good idea to call the man with a gun an asshole.”

A warm hand suddenly smoothed down his face, brushing his curls out of his eyes. It was difficult to focus, but Michael strived, wanting to see the face of the bastard who shot Ray, his best fucking friend. His migraine worsened, like war drums pounding in his head, but Michael Jones was nothing but stubborn, and he persevered.

A handsome face peered down at him, a mocking smile curved on his kiss damp lips, and he could see satisfaction in dark forest green eyes. Gavin chuckled, his calloused thumb tracing a line down his nose.

“Sorry about that, Michael.” He said, and the foreign pronunciation stung him, directly in his chest. He curled his fingers up into a fist and choked on a breath, unable to do anything else. He wanted to swing his fist into his face, beat him within an inch of his life and make him beg for mercy- but he couldn’t. The flames of fury consumed him, and he could do nothing about it. “I just really need those documents in that briefcase.” He smiled, those beautiful crinkles reappearing in the corners of his eyes, and he pinched Michael’s cheek. “I didn’t want to, I really like you. But I had to.” He lifted his gaze, glancing over to where he knew the glasses of wine still lay. “Ketamine.” He clarified. “It won’t kill you. But you need an ambulance.”

Fuck you, he tried to say, Bastard. Douchebag fucking asshole bastard. He opened his mouth to tell him exactly what he thought of him, but only a faint croak emerged. His throat felt bone dry, and he rasped at him pathetically. Gavin pouted, and his thumb rubbed against his temple, down the line of his eyebrows. Across the room, he heard Ray shout, “Don’t come anywhere fucking near me! Bitch, get off of me!” His furious shouts rose in volume and a multitude of swear words that impressed even Michael emerged from his mouth- but soon, his cries were muffled.

“Ah.” The woman’s voice sighed, a sound of satisfaction. “Now he’s finally shut up, I can call them.” Michael knew she could have been calling anyone- back up, whoever Gavin’s boss was, a fucking firing squad for all he knew. But he was less interested in her- more interested in trying to glare directly into Gavin’s eyes, to express just how much hatred he felt for him in that second. Gavin just stared down at him, his expression smoothing into blankness, watching him as if trying to memorise his face. He removed his hand, and it came away smeared with red.

There was almost silence for a long moment, the distinct lack of noise heavy and oppressive, but then Michael’s ears perked up as he heard a whimper. He shifted his body with extreme effort, managing to slowly roll from his back to his side. He saw Ray slumped against the wall, already developing bruises staining his jaw and a bullet hole in his leg. Blood had already begun to soak into the carpet, transforming the beige into a dark red. He had a rag stuffed in his mouth, tied around the back of his head, and he had lost his glasses. He spat what was probably muffled curses at the two of them, unable to move or defend himself.

Above him stood a woman, tall and familiar. It was the woman from before. Her once flowing hair had been pulled back into a makeshift, practical ponytail, and her daring dress had been replaced with skinny jeans and a plain white vest top with a black jacket. Her heels had been traded in for flat boots- good for a quick getaway.

Her expression was laced with pain, her face scrunched up. She held her hand over her mouth, and looked like she was about to burst into tears. She sucked in an unsteady breath. “Yes, 911?” Her voice was tinged with desperation. “Yes, I need an ambulance- oh God.” She covered her face with one hand, her body wracked with sobs. “I’m sorry, there’s just so much…God…” She sniffed, and she waited, listening to someone on the other end. “Yes, I need one sent to this address, please.” She rattled off a name and a few numbers Michael couldn’t keep track of, still crying. “Please, as quick as you can.” She heaved out a heavy breath, her face a pink hue. She sniffled as the operator spoke. “My name? Yes, yes, of course. My name is Sophie, Sophie Graham.” She told them- and then abruptly hung up.

Her face and entire demeanour changed, then- she pulled her hand away and she giggled, her expression no longer torn with anguish. She shoved her phone in her pocket, the crocodile tears no longer falling. “Done.” She announced. “Now we have to get out of here before they show up. No doubt someone heard the gunshot, too.”

“Alright.” Gavin nodded, tearing his gaze away from Michael for the first time in minutes. “I need you to grab the briefcase from the hallway. I’ll ungag the boy.” With a parting touch to Michael’s chest, Gavin rose, crossing the room. Barbara disappeared, her hair swaying with her movements. He heard Ray’s biting snarls, incomprehensible and guttural- and then they suddenly became much clearer insults. Fuck you, I’m going to kill you, Geoff won’t stand for this. Gavin let him speak for a while, but then he tutted. “I don’t want to kill you.” He said softly. “But I will.”

Ray got the picture, but his voice and his final words were grim. “I’m going to come after you.” He promised, his voice thick with emotion. Gavin never replied. Instead, Michael saw his pivot, and walk back towards him.

“I told you I was a secret agent.” He reminded him, settling down onto his knees. He pushed Michael’s hair back from his forehead again, feeling the sweat drying on his forehead, and pressed a dry kiss to the direct centre. He held it there for a few long seconds, before pulling away. Michael didn’t even bother to try and reach for him. Gavin hummed one last time, and he tilted his head to one side. “Tell Geoff Ramsey that Ryan Haywood sends his regards.”

With that, he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his knees. He gestured Barbara, who stepped back into Michael’s line of vision and passed him Michael’s briefcase. In turn, he handed her the gun he had shot Ray with, and he offered her a tight lipped smile.

He spared Michael a single glance before he left the bedroom, leaving Michael numb and Ray bleeding, and the apartment door shut with an ominous boom.

Ten minutes later, they heard the wailing sirens of an ambulance, and fury rose like bile in Michael’s Jones’ throat.


End file.
